I is for Identity
by Dush-kins
Summary: In 1932, not only did Iraq gain independence and join the League of Nations, but he also met the one Nation who would shape his life and his region more than anyone else, for better or worse. The story of how America and Iraq first met.


**AN:** Another in my A-Z project-thingy! :D This one's on Iraq and America, one of my many, may One True Pairings ^^

Don't have much to say for the opening notes, as always. So on with the story!

**Disclaimer:** Himaruya would never sell the rights to Hetalia to me :O So alas, I'll never own APH :(

**I is for Identity**

The first time America saw Iraq, it was across a crowded room in 1932.

They were in the meeting hall for the League of Nations. England was giving up his rights to him, making the Arab an independent state for the first time in little under 400 years. He was being inaugurated into the League, welcomed with open arms by the other members _("So, how does it feel to finally be our equal?")_. Though its creator, America was not a member, not technically. He did, however, shadow their meetings ever so often, standing off in one of the far ends of the room, shouting his opinion whenever he saw fit (which seemed to be after every other statement made by an actual member). However, America's mouth was closed for once as he studied the exotic new Nation.

A hazy, subconscious thought overtook America's mind as he studied the Kingdom of Iraq, took in his gait, the deep dark brown of his eyes, the borderline madness just lurking underneath his smile. The thought was fleeting, there one moment and gone the next, like a flash of lightning or the lifespan of most humans:

_He looks kinda like an angel._

Before he could stop himself, he called out, "Hey, kid!"

Everyone turned to look at America, but he waved them all off. "I was talking to the new one. What's his name?" America feigned ignorance. "Iraq, was it?"

Said Nation looked around, as if there could be another Iraq in the room. After confirming that there was none, he pointed to himself and asked, "Me?"

"Duh." America brought a finger up and bent it towards himself, indicating that Iraq should come over to him. "Get your ass over here. All the cool kids sit in the back. Didn't you know? C'mon, you're a new Nation… don't ya wanna be _cool?_" he teased.

Iraq smirked, beginning to catch on. "But if I do that, then what will happen to all these other people here? They'll miss me too much."

All the other Nations at the table scoffed, rolled their eyes _("We'll miss you too much? _What?_ Just who do you think you are?")_. But neither Iraq nor America seemed to notice. "Babe, don't worry about any of them. Focus on me. I'm the only one you need to please."

Iraq raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And just who the hell are you?"

America placed his hands on his hips, and proudly proclaimed. "Me? Why, I'm none other than the United States of America! The Land of the Free! Defender of all that is good! Hero of the world! Don't tell me you've never heard about me?"

"Um…" Iraq placed a finger to his lips, and his brows furrowed in thought, as if he truly might not know who the United States was. It became unclear whether or not he was still joking, and part of America—a part small but still very much there—was genuinely worried. After all he'd done to build himself up into a global power…

"Oh, yeah! I know who you are!" Iraq suddenly cried out, and America breathed a sigh of relief, until the Middle Easterner added in, "You're that guy England told me about! The one who never shuts up!" He shook his head. "Naw, I don't think I wanna hang out with you. Who wants to be friends with someone who doesn't know how to be quiet?"

America really had no idea why that stung so much. Normally, he couldn't care less about what other people thought about him. But for reasons unknown he didn't want Iraq to think any ill of him. He wanted Iraq to like him, more than he'd ever wanted someone to like him before. He knew that he had to fix this, in a way that Iraq would respond to but also allow him to save face. America grinned and waved England off as if trying to rid the air of a bad smell, and hastily proclaimed, "Screw England! Who gives a rat's ass what he thinks?"

The other Nation rubbed his chin contemplatively. "Well, that is true… England's opinion _does_ mean less than nothing to me. Maybe I should go with America, after all…"

"Iraq!" England sputtered. "You can't be serious!"

His head whipped over to his former caretaker. "I sure as hell am! America seems like a way cooler guy than you! I don't wanna surround myself with Nations like you, Empires with heads stuck up their own asses. If I wanted to do that, then… then I would've just stayed as your protectorate!"

"If Iraq wanted to be like you, England," America added in, "Then he would've adapted that frilly little accent of yours!"

"Or maybe I would've made my national dish Earl Grey and fucking scones."

"Oh, my God, did he make you eat scones? Back when I was his colony, he did the same thing to me!"

"Really?" Iraq's eyes widened, genuinely interested. "You used to live in England's house?"

"Well, not really… like, I had my own house, but England owned it. It was… a weird relationship." America shrugged. "I can tell you all about it, if you want me to, but I feel kinda weird, shouting it across the room like this. Wanna just get the hell out of here?"

Iraq grinned, showing off his white teeth. "I thought you'd never ask!"

To the shock of the other Nations in the League, Iraq really did it; he crossed the room over to the other Nation. As Iraq came closer, America seized the opportunity to study him again. He took in the gentle curve of his jaw line, the flawlessness of his caramel colored skin, his wide, playful eyes, his full lips. His hair was jet black and soft looking; he was slim to the point of litheness, though America could also tell that the younger Nation was not weak by any means. And when Iraq came over and grabbed his hand, the thought came to him again, a light-bathed notion that would soon become tainted with the all ugliness of all that was to come:

_He looks like an angel._

"You're so awesome, America. You saved me from that stupid meeting. You're my _hero._"

He meant it jokingly, though a time would come where both would question whether or not the Land of the Free was a heroic Nation at all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** THESE ARE THE NOTES.

The League of Nations was the predecessor to the United Nations, and was created during the aftermath of WWI, with the intention being to help prevent another World War. It wasn't exactly successful, as you all probably know (*cough*WWII*cough*), but it did lead to the United Nations, and organization that no one has really... criticized, at least not to a major, serious extent.

And speaking of WWI; with the fall of the Ottoman Empire, most of the modern-day Middle Eastern countries became quasi-war prizes for the victorious European powers-I only say 'quasi' because nearly all of them only remained under foreign control up until the 1930s before being granted independence. Such as Iraq, who was a British protectorate from 1918-1932, before declaring independence as the Kingdom of Iraq.

Iraq joined the League of Nations almost immediately after independence. The League of Nations didn't really have a lot of members (unlike the present day United Nations, of which all but two countries in the world are not members of). With that said, the united States, though a founding member of the League of Nations, was not a member of the organization, as congress voted against joining it when it was proposed by then-president Woodrow Wilson.

But even so, my head-canon tells that the League of Nations is what would have brought America and Iraq into contact for the first time. I named this one "Identity" because... well, America does have the tenancy to shape other Nations, doesn't he? For better or worse :/

Annnnnd that's it! Review? :3


End file.
